He didn't want to visit, not a little bit, but I was behind, persuadin'
him with my knee, and up he goes.

"Look at what the sneak thief business is comin' to," says I, standin'
him under the bunch light where Rossiter could get a good look at him.
He was a shifty eyed low brow that you wouldn't trust alone in a room
with a hot quarter.

"My name is McGilty," says he.

"Even if it wa'n't, you could never prove an alibi with that face,"
says I.

"If this young gent'll 'phone to his father," he goes on, "he'll find
that I'm all right."

"Don't you want us to call up Teddy at Oyster Bay? Or send for your
old friend Bishop Potter? Ah, say, don't I look like I could buy fly
paper without gettin' stuck? Sit down there and rest your face and
hands."

With that I chucks him into a chair, grabs up a hunk of window cord
that I has for the chest weights, and proceeds to do the bundle
wrapping act on him. Course, he does a lot of talkin', tellin' of the
things that'll happen to me if I don't let him go right off.

"I'll cheerfully pay all the expenses of a damage suit, or fines,
Shorty," says Rossiter.

"Forget it!" says I. "There won't be anything of the sort. He's
lettin' off a little hot air, that's all. Keep your eye on him while I
goes after the other one."

I collared Number Two squattin' on the skylight stairs. For a minute
or so he put up a nice little muss, but after I'd handed him a swift
one on the jaw he forgot all about fightin' back.

"Attempted larceny of a tarred roof for yours," says I. "Come down
till I give you the third degree."

He didn't have a word to say; just held onto his face and looked ugly.
I tied him up same's I had the other and set 'em face to face, where
they could see how pretty they looked. Then I led Rossiter down stairs.

"Now run along and enjoy yourself," says I. "That pair'll do no more
sleut'in' for awhile. I'll keep 'em half an hour, anyway, before I
throws 'em out in the street."

"I'm awfully obliged, Shorty," says he.

"Don't mention it," says I. "It's been a pleasure."'

That was no dream, either. Say, it did me most as much good as a trip
to Coney, stringin' them trussed up keyhole gazers.

"Your names'll look nice in the paper," says I, "and when your cases
come up at Special Sessions maybe your friends'll all have reserved
seats. Sweet pair of pigeon toed junk collectors, you are!"

If they wa'n't sick of the trailin' business before I turned 'em